Blind Instincts

Chapter Fifteen

~Alaric's POV~

I let go, obvious blood around us, and I stand over her. She doesn't dare move. Her fur is of the purest white, just as her human hair is. It shines in the dull morning rays, ironically beautiful compared to the scene that just unraveled. I watch as her eyes gawk back and forth, focusing in and out in an odd way I've never seen her do before. Her pink nose covered in blood and dirt, I see it transform before my eyes, back into the button nose of her human form.

I shift as well, still standing above her. Her body is now exposed, as is mine. Nudity is nothing new to my eyes, but I can't help but stare at her. The contrast between the extreme paleness of her skin against the vibrant grass creates a captivating picture. Her curly hair entwine with the grass, making me almost jealous of its blades as it sways through the locks of her long strands.

Her body lies in a ball, squeezed into itself to hide it's most valuable places. I don't imagine my mate has much experience with nudity or being exposed. This satisfies me, as wicked as I know it is.

Despite her state, I do not peer anywhere she wouldn't want to be seen. Being this close to her is enough, gawking at her body would only make the bond worsen.

I bend down slowly, feeling almost slow motion. Her nose and cheeks flush red from the cold, almost unnoticeable hairs on her arm upturning with goosebumps. Her skin hardens with the cold, making me act quickly.

I pick her weakened body up into my arms, lifting her against my chest. My entire body explodes with a euphoria, tingles reaching every inch of me. Her scent in strong in my nostrils as her bare skin folds against mine. I walk her through the small crowd of people, growling lowly at the curious males.

Nobody should be looking at my mate in such a vulnerable, injured state. Even if they are not aware she is my true mate.

Her chest slowly rises and falls, as I walk with her attached to my body. I can tell she is not sleeping, minor movements every once and awhile. Her eyes draw open very slowly, almost looking directly into mine. I stop walking dead, staring into her eyes under the light of the sun. I know she can't see me, she doesn't even know what she's doing to me. Her lips part only slightly, inhaling lowly. I don't realize I'm not breathing until I see her take a breath, and exhale a long, slow breath.

Her eyes close as I inhale once more, trying to regain control of my own thoughts. Today is a hard day for the mate bond, her closeness only making it worse.

We almost reach the healers den without a word said, when her head nestles between my head and shoulder. I feel her gentle inhale, taking in my scent.

I'm at the mercy of her will, in the most vulnerable position I could possibly be in, and yet I allow it. I feel deep in my stomach that the mate bond is climbing out of its initial start, becoming something I'm not allowed to posses. By now, I know she is sleeping, for she would be all but too shy, and likely fearful, to be this gentle and close to me.

Because of this, I know it is best to leave her as I lay her resting body on the pack healers bed. So I do, and I don't stay long enough to linger.

~

My day is spent tending to pack needs. I resurrect the problems they bring to light and send people to fix them, some I do myself. I realize how productive I've been compared to usual, using work as a distraction from the secret that is my mate.

It's late evening when I receive a message about a meeting with my parents. An agitation forms quickly where an empty peacefulness once was. Nothing good comes from seeing my parents and I doubt this encounter will be an exception.

A small yet sleek house lies past the trees. Nothing quite as modern exists in my pack, my parents house being an outlier to the others.

I know they hate to be kept waiting, so I linger in the area for a bit until I knock on the door. My head aches before I even enter, knowing full well that they will have something to nag about.

I'm greeted by a familiar omega that works under my parents. She tends to their needs as they want her to, right now she cooks us a fine late dinner.

Genevora is already there chatting them up on the couch. This isn't an unlikely scene, my parents have always loved Genevora's people-pleasing attitude.

She notices me standing at the door frame, her meek smile reaching her eyes as she shuffles to greet me. Her body is short and thin, it makes me think of Monet. They are stark opposites, looks and personality. Genevora holds a presence in every room she is in. Her personality is outgoing enough for everybody in my pack, she undoubtedly outshines as an involved leader. As for Monet, she's quiet, yet calculated. She might think I haven't noticed the way she can memorize a room in just one visit, but I have.

Genevora wraps her left arm around my back, extending her neck to say "you're late," into my ear. At one time, her hot whispers would have made me feel something. Now, I pay no mind to her warm hand reaching up my back, under my shirt. I walk to the table where the food has been set, everybody else following along.

I take the end of the table, my father takes the head. It usually ends up like this, though not on purpose. He always needs to be in control of the situation, physically or psychologically. He cares too much about superficial acts, like the one in power always sitting at the head of the table.

As a retired alpha, he's hard to oppose. Even though I am the current alpha, he has something I have yet to gain. He has a long list of accomplishments, some in a great book of history, and some I consider tyranny. Everything I have done has been in his words. And now, I will mate Genevora for him too.

I stare daggers at him from the other end of the table, unable to look away. The intensity in my stomach has refused to dissolve since this morning, it bubbles in my stomach, and I have a feeling I'm going to take it out on them tonight.

A squeeze is felt on my thigh, which finally takes me away from my determined staring. Gen holds my knee, peering at me with a pointed look. No matter what I say, she knows me better than anyone. And no matter what I want to think, I can't deny that she is beautiful. Her ebony skin glows without ease, curly black hair shapes her face to look like a statue. If the moon cares about anyone, it definitely cares about her. I wish I could feel the same, though my parents excessive need for me to be with her, has ruined the possibility of anything real between us.

I used to spend my days cursing the moon for not making her my true mate. I will do anything for my pack, including mark someone that is not my moon assigned mate. Gen and I are undoubtedly close, even a perfect match. Of anybody, I wished it could have been her. I care about her, but I stopped loving her after our teen years together. And now that I met my mate, I do not desire her anymore.

"Let's get started, shall we?" My mother speaks in a proper, curt manner. This is how I know she has something to say. She was taught to be a people person, just as Gen was. It is a necessity for the Luna's of our pack; a facade to keep everyone's minds at ease. I much rather authenticity.

No one says anything as we begin to eat, though there is an awkward blanket of silence. I cut through it, wanting to get to the point.
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Word Count: 1400